The Young Wireless Operator-As a Fire Patrol Part 31

growled the ranger.

When Charley had said he didn't mind the walk he had told the truth. Yet he had understated it. The fact was that he hugely enjoyed the walk. He was rested from his long carry, and with nothing to weight him down, his feet felt light as feathers. He trudged briskly along the smooth highway, every sense alive to the delights of the forest. All about him the woods were vocal with the calls of birds. The wind whispered and sighed in the pine tops. And sometimes, when the air in the bottom was still as sluggish water, Charley could hear the wind roaring among the trees far up on the hillsides. The scent of spring was in the air--that indescribable mixture of the smell of opening buds and flowers and green things and rank steaming earth, that together make such an intoxicating odor. And all about him Charley caught glimpses of the wild life of the forest.

It was late in the day when he reached the forester's office. The forester seemed greatly surprised to see him.

"I came to talk to you about my work," explained Charley.

The forester frowned. "What is the telephone for?" he asked a bit brusquely.

"I didn't want to talk over my business before that man," protested Charley.

The forester looked at him sharply. "What business do you have excepting the business of the forest?" he asked.

"None," said Charley.

"Then surely you could discuss forest matters in the presence of a ranger."

"It may be that I am unreasonable," said Charley, "but I don't like that man. There's something about him that I don't trust."

The forester looked at Charley searchingly. "Sometimes," he said, "I almost feel that way myself. I realize that Lumley is mouthy and inquisitive and disagreeable personally, but he has been in the Forest Service a long time and it hardly seems right not to trust him. He's a pretty efficient ranger."

"Well, I'm here, anyway," continued Charley. "I came to find out what my first duties are to be and how to do them."

"There's a little tree planting that simply must be done in your territory, late though it is," said Mr. Marlin. "To-morrow I shall send you out with a small crew to do it."

"Please show me just how it ought to be done," said Charley.

The forester smiled with approval. "Come out-of-doors," he said, picking up a mattock. And he led the way to a bed of seedling spruces that had been heeled in the ground, and dug up two or three of them.

"These ought to be lifted in small bunches and their roots puddled," he said, dipping the earth-covered roots in water to show how to puddle them.

"They should be planted thus." He struck his mattock sharply into the soil, bent it to one side, and in the hole thus opened thrust a tiny tree.

Then he stepped on the ground close to the seedling and pressed the earth tight about it.

"That's all there is to it," he said. "Your crew will work in pairs, one man carrying the trees in a pail of water and inserting them in the ground, while the other man carries the mattock and opens the holes. The trees should be planted in straight rows and about four feet apart each way. You will have to go ahead of the crew and set up the line pole. Pick out some trees or saplings to sight by and you will have no trouble to keep your line straight."

"Is that all?"

"You'll have to oversee the work, of course. Make sure the planting is done right, and watch your men. You will have to take whatever steps seem necessary to keep them working well and cheerfully. Sometimes it is a good thing to switch a man from one job to another. It rests him to use another set of muscles."

"What else am I to do?"

"Day after to-morrow I want you to brush out the fire trails leading to your old camp. That is, you must start brus.h.i.+ng them out. It will take several days. They are so overgrown now that they are a real menace to the forest. These trails were originally five feet wide. We took out all the roots and underground growths down to mineral soil. You must cut away all the brush that has grown in, chop it into short lengths, and pile it in little piles in the trail itself for burning on windless days. You must grub out the roots that have grown in, too. Really the entire trail ought to be grubbed again, but we can't do that now. You will have to a.s.sign men to cut brush, to pile it, and to grub up the roots. That's about all I can tell you."

"It sounds very easy," said Charley, "but I am willing to confess that handling these tough looking mountaineers is more than I counted on."

"Are you going to quit so soon?" asked the forester with scorn. "I thought you had more stuff in you than that, Charley."

Charley turned red. "Who said anything about quitting?" he demanded. "I only want to know what I am to do if I get into trouble with the men."

"That's more than I can tell you. It's up to you as a ranger to find the ways to manage your men. But I can tell you this. It is always best to follow Mr. Roosevelt's plan and speak softly but carry a big stick. Be kind to the men. Be square with them. Play no favorites. Look after their interest. But don't let them loaf on the job. They expect to have to work, and they won't have much respect for a man who doesn't hold them to their task. After all, they are not very different from horses. They have to be driven if they are to work."

"I suspect some of them will be hard to drive," said Charley, "if the few I have seen hereabout are good samples."

"It all depends upon how you get started with them. Don't let them get away with you. Let them know you are the boss. And remember this: as a ranger you have power to hire and fire these men. If it comes to a show-down, don't hesitate to fire a man. We're short-handed, but we can much better afford to lose a laborer than to have an entire crew spoiled."

"Thank you," said Charley. "I feel better already. If you don't mind, I'm coming to you before each new job and get you to show me exactly how it should be done. A fellow can get along so much better if he really knows what he is talking about."

"Good boy," smiled the forester. "I don't believe I am going to be disappointed in you, Charley."

Charley shook the forester's hand and started back to his new habitation, which he reached just as supper was ready.

After supper he and the ranger talked about the forest. Or rather Lumley did. He was so loquacious that Charley soon stopped talking and let his companion carry on the conversation alone. Lumley was quite able to do it, for he was truly, as Mr. Marlin had described him, mouthy. He had something to say about everything, and what he had to say was usually of a derogatory character. He was guarded in what he said about Mr. Marlin, yet Charley saw that he was trying to d.a.m.n the forester by faint praise.

"You may make a good ranger in time all right," he said bluntly to Charley, "but it seems mighty funny to me to take a raw high school boy and put him in charge of the finest stand of timber in the entire forest.

I'm the man that post ought to go to. Besides, I have a greater interest in that timber than any one else."

Charley choked back his resentment at the statement about himself and asked, "Why have you a greater interest in that timber than any one else?"

"Because our family used to own that timber," he said, sudden pa.s.sion inflaming his eyes. And Charley once more saw in them that savage look he had detected before. "If my old fool of a grandfather hadn't let himself be bilked out of the whole holding," he said coa.r.s.ely, "I'd own that timber to-day and I'd be a millionaire instead of a poor forest-ranger. By rights the land is mine, anyway." And again the ranger swore at his dead ancestor.

Charley listened in disgust but made no comment. The ranger saw that he had talked too much. He muttered an apology. "When I see somebody else getting the money that ought to be mine," he said, "it makes me so mad that I could almost commit murder." Then he quickly changed the conversation and once more became the smooth, oily individual he was when Charley first saw him.

But Charley had seen and heard enough to be utterly disgusted with the man. As early as possible he got away to his room on the pretext of weariness, but it was a long time before he went to bed.

Early next morning he was at headquarters, where Mr. Marlin introduced him to the half dozen men who were to serve under him. Ordinarily ten men would form a unit for planting, but Charley did not know that, and so was ignorant of the fact that Mr. Marlin had tried to make his first day of authority easy and successful by giving him only a few selected men to handle. Mr. Marlin introduced Charley to the men one by one, as they came in. Charley tried to talk to them, but found it rather difficult. The mountaineers had little to say.

When the men were all on hand, Mr. Marlin turned to them and said, "By the way, men, this is the lad who saved Morton's life."

At the mention of the sick ranger, Charley saw the men's faces light up.

"He's a little young yet, but he knows his business. Jim says he handled the snake-bite as well as any doctor could have done. I want you all to be good to this lad and help him as much as you can."

Now they had found something in common to talk about. All day long, at intervals, the crew discussed rattlers; and Charley told them, at their request, just how the ranger was bitten and what had been done to save him.

"You see," he said, "the danger from snake-bite comes when the poison reaches the heart. So it is necessary to suck as much of it out as possible and to prevent the remainder from reaching the heart except a little at a time. That's why the bandages were put on the arm so tight.

The old notion of taking a stimulant was all wrong. The thing to do is to keep the heart beating as slowly as possible until the venom reaches it.

Then if it begins to slow up, give a stimulant."

This suggestion was contrary to all forest practice and Charley could see that the men were greatly interested in it. How much his recital about the snake contributed to his success that day he never realized. He kept his lines straight, switched his men from one task to another, now relieved this man or that, and did his work in such a highly efficient manner that he would have had no trouble anyway; but at intervals all through the day the men reverted to the rattlesnake story. They were so busy thinking about something else they almost forgot about Charley.

But the next day had a different tale to tell. The forester had increased Charley's crew by four men, and a tougher looking lot Charley had never seen. Rough, rugged, reckless mountaineers, there was not one of them who could not have picked Charley up and broken him in half with ease. And one of them, a tall, surly fellow, was quite evidently bent on making trouble.

Charley's knees almost shook under him when he faced the crew and realized that it was up to him to command and control these men. Also he knew that he was lost if he showed any hesitation. The instant the party reached the trail, therefore, Charley seized an axe.

"Let's get at it, men," he said, starting work himself.

"What do you want us to do?" asked the tall, surly looking chap. The others gathered round to see what Charley would say. And Charley realized that he was on trial with the men.

"You heard what the forester said," he replied pleasantly. "We're to brush this trail out. I want it made as good as it was when it was first completed. Mr. Marlin said you were a mighty good crew and knew your business thoroughly. So you don't need any instructions from me."